


Blue Blood Liar

by Silverwolfsbane29



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Ambiguous Relationships, F/M, I don't know how police work, I'm Bad At Titles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Domestic Violence, Pre-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Rating May Change, References to Depression, Warnings May Change, mentions of abuse, mentions of depression, slight obsessive behaviour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-09-30 11:56:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17223623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverwolfsbane29/pseuds/Silverwolfsbane29
Summary: Robin Averys worked as a police officer for two years before being promoted to detective. In that time she had managed to achieve one of the highest arrest rates, had never taken time off work, and had been top of her class and valedictorian during her time at the police academy. Upon receiving her promotion, she expected to be partnered with a detective who has a work ethic as high as her own. She was extremely mistaken.Set before and during the android revolution.





	1. Meeting the Lieutenant

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so as you are likely to guess I know nothing about the workings of a police precinct. Everything that I've written about detective work is purely based off of what I've seen in movies, and my vague memory of taking two criminology classes. If something is inaccurate (which it most likely will be) I would love for you to tell me so I can fix my mistakes!
> 
> I haven't tagged any relationships that are going to form in the story because I want that to partly be up to the reader. Any reviews or messages you send me I will be taking to heart, and (unless they are completely ridiculous or go against my base idea) your ideas and comments will affect the story. 
> 
> Everything that happens in the beginning is based before the android revolution, and starts out before Connor even meets Hank, so my character will (hopefully) be going through the entire plot of the game. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! 
> 
>  
> 
> *Chapter unedited

Robin Averys worked as a police officer for two years before being promoted to detective. In that time she had managed to achieve one of the highest arrest rates, had never taken time off work, and had been top of her class and valedictorian during her time at the police academy. Robin was always a hardass when it came to work. Although she would take the comments of her partners into mind, she would always use her own strategies and wasn’t afraid to tell her partners when they were making a dumb decision. Along with that, she was strict on time, reports, and keeping a proper dress code in the office. Anyone working with Robin who didn’t follow her lead would be reprimanded by her constantly. Suffice to say, many of her colleagues didn’t care for her. That never affected her, though. Robin kept a strictly professional relationship with everyone she worked with. Her promotion to detective wasn’t a surprise to anyone who knew her; she was hardworking, and they all knew it would happen eventually. However, when the other detectives heard about her promotion, they all let the captain know just how much they didn't want to work with the strict woman. It surprised everyone when Captain Fowler put Lieutenant Hank Anderson as her partner for her first homicide.

“With all due respect, Captain,” Robin stood in the police captain’s office, her dress shirt and blazer iron pressed and straightened to perfection, and her hands clasped behind her back politely. Her voice was warm and friendly, while still carrying a tone of respect and professionalism, but that didn’t in any way match her appearance. She was a strict looking woman in all aspects; her black, curly hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, her eyebrows were always set in a slight frown, and her gaze was sharp and evaluating as ever, “I cannot see Lieutenant Anderson being… pleased with this arrangement. Is there perhaps another detective who would be willing to work on the Henderson case with me?”

“Hank is a good cop, Averys,” Captain Fowler sighed, leaning back in his chair, “You both may have very… opposing personalities, but I think you could be a good team if given the chance. And to be frank, none of the other detectives want to work with either of you.”

“Yes, sir,” Although Robin was disappointed, she wasn’t one to argue with her boss. She had heard a few, more recent stories about Lieutenant Hank Anderson, and none of them were particularly pleasant. 

Upon turning to leave, she noticed that Lieutenant Anderson’s desk was empty. “Our shift began fifteen minutes ago, where is the Lieutenant?”

The Captain merely sighed, “Hank will come in when there’s work, or when we call himl. His phone number is on his desk.”

Robin had to stifle the frustration the Lieutenant’s frequent tardiness caused, “Of course, sir, I’ll go find him and get started on the case.”

Robin had been given the desk next to Lieutenant Anderson, and she could already tell just from looking at his desk that they were not going to get along. His desk was covered in papers, files, old donuts, coffee stains, and god knew what else. Crinkling her nose in disgust, she picked up the note that had been stuck to his nameplate and called the phone number written down. It rang for a few minutes before the voice mail message sounded, a gruff voice telling her to leave a message. Sighing in frustration, she dialed once again. This time the call was answered on the second ring.

“Who’s this?” the voice on the other end was gruff and sounded half asleep.

“Hello, Lieutenant Anderson, this is detective Robin Averys,” Robin had to try and keep the frustration from her tone, and instead used the same warm tone she used with the Captain, “We have been assigned a case by Captain Fowler and are expected at the crime scene.”

Robin could hear a faint ‘aw fuck’ from the other line. “Wait, who is this? I don’t know any Averys.”

“I was only recently promoted,” Robin explained, grabbing her bag and car keys from her desk, “I am driving to the crime scene now, I can pick you up on the way.”

Another round of grumbled curses sounded through her phone, “Fine, I’ll text you the address,” and then the line went dead.

‘Well isn’t he a ray of sunshine.’ Robin thought to herself, already anticipating her future difficulties with the Lieutenant. 

~~~

“You look hungover,” Robin commented upon reaching the Lieutenant’s house. He stood in the doorway, putting on his jacket sluggishly while trying to keep his large dog from going out the door.

“Yeah, thanks, it’s the hangover,” Hank grumbled in reply, finally getting his jacket on and giving his dog one last pat on the head. He locked the door and started walking towards his car. 

“What are you doing?” Robin asked, “I’m driving.”

“No, I’m driving,” Hank replied, already getting into the front seat, “I always drive, kid, get used to it.”

Robin sighed, but didn’t comment further and got into his old car. The car had a horrible smell that crossed between booze, dog hair, and rotten food, and the appearance of the backseat only furthered her disgust. 

“Next time we take my car,” Robin commented, her nose wrinkling in distaste. 

“What’s wrong with my car?” Hank asked, sending the younger detective a quick glare.

“It both smells and looks like you haven’t cleaned it in the last 10 years,” Robin replied easily, listing off everything from the top of her head, “The engine sounds like it’s dying, I drive faster than you, I’m not hungover, I can smell mold-”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Hank growled angrily, “Tell me about the case.”

Robin opened her bag and pulled out her phone, pulling up what they had so far in the case file, “A Mr. Steve Henderson, age 52, was shot and killed last night around 2:35 in the morning. The assailant broke in by picking the lock on the backdoor, waking up Mr. Henderson and his daughter, Samantha, age 16, when he broke a vase. According to Samantha, Mr. Henderson told her to stay in her room while he went to investigate the cause of the noise. A few minutes later she heard a gunshot and called the police. She went downstairs, and managed to see the assailants face as he made a run for it. Samantha isn’t saying anything beyond that, and is currently being treated for shock. The wife, Rachel Henderson, was out of town during the incident, and is on her way back now.”

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” Hank replied sarcastically.

~~~

Once they made it to the Henderson house, Robin and Hank worked in near silence, only making the occasional comment to each other when they find something of importance. Everything they find matched with what the daughter told them. Along with that, they managed to find fingerprints and a small amount of blood they believe to belong to the assailant, but had to be sent in for testing. Robin decided to try talking to the daughter while Hank continued searching the lower level of the house. The daughter had refused to leave the house, despite being prompted to go to the hospital, and was recovering in her bedroom. Before entering the room, Robin removed her black blazer and gun holster (the latter which she gave to one of the police officers on scene for safe keeping), but kept her badge strapped to her belt. She also let down her ponytail so her curly hair hung down around her face and gave her a much softer appearance. Grabbing the sketchbook and photobook from her bag, she headed up to the room.

Samantha had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and sat with her knees against her chest on her bed. Her bedroom looked the same as any typical teenagers. She had drawings and photos covered the walls displaying her with many people, including her family. Robin stood in the doorway, and quickly took in the room before knocking softly on the doorframe.

Samantha looked up at the detective, her eyes devoid of any emotion, but old tear tracks stained her cheeks and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. 

“May I come in, Samantha?” Robin asked politely, using a warm tone and keeping her face relaxed, “My name is Robin, I’m a detective with the Detroit Police Department. I would like to speak with you, if you are ready?”

The teenager just gave a stiff nod in reply, tightening the blankets around herself. Robin walked in slowly, taking in the room a bit more before sitting down on the other side of the bed. When the teenager met her eyes once again, Robin gave her a sympathetic smile, “I know you already spoke to one of the officers downstairs, but I was wondering if you would be able to describe the man who broke in? It might help us in identifying and finding him.”

Samantha gave another stiff nod, her eyes shifted back down to her hands, and she began saying with a course, quiet voice, “He had short blond hair… it was shorter on the sides, almost buzzed, but the top, his bangs I guess, was a bit longer.”

Robin wrote everything down on the corner of her page, not saying a word and giving Samantha time to process her thoughts. She would use the description to make some sketches later. 

“He had light eyes, like really really pale, I think they were blue, but I only saw for a second,” She went on, her voice growing stronger as she thought, “His face was skinny, slim, you know? With pronounced cheeks and jaw. He also had facial hair, but it was kind of short and uneven, like he hadn’t shaved in a week. He had big eyebrows as well… I think that’s all I can remember. Does that help?”

“Yes, that helps,” Robin smiled once again, closing her sketchbook, “I’m going to work on a sketch and show it to you later, alright? I also have some photos I would like you to look through. It has a variety of portraits, and if you are able, I would like you to point out any similar traits you can find and compare them to the assailant.”

Robin spent the next twenty minutes flipping through pages upon pages of reference photos while Sam pointed to the different attributes that were similar to the assailant’s. It was only once Hank came to find her that Robin stopped and thanked Samantha for her time. 

“Get anything useful?” Hank’s gruff voice asked once Robin had closed the door behind her. 

“Yes,” Robin replied, retrieving her gun from the police officer she had retrieved it from and putting it back on, “I think I have a good description of the intruder. I’ll start up a sketch when we get back to the station. Was there any word of when Samantha’ mother would return?”

“Why are you doing the sketch?” Hank asked in obvious confusion, “We have people for that at the station, rookie.”

“I realize,” Robin replied stiffly, putting back on her blazer and tying her hair back in the tight ponytail, “But the sketch artist is out right now, I checked while you were nursing your hangover. Besides, I’d rather do it myself.”

Hank grumbled to himself about ‘fucking perfectionists’ before saying, “Well we should head back to the station while we wait for the analysis.”

“And Samantha’s mother?” Robin asked again, not following after the Lieutenant when he turned to leave.

“She’s on the way,” He replied gruffly, “Few hours or so.”

“Should we take Samantha to the station? Or to a family members house?” Robin asked, “I can’t imagine staying here will do her any good.”

“Look, a police officer is going to stay here until the mother returns,” Hank replied impatiently, “If she decides she doesn’t want to be here, they can take her somewhere else. Now let’s go.”

Robin finally relented and followed after him.

~~~

Once they returned to the precinct they both got to work. Hank set about catching up on his paperwork, including his report for the Henderson case while Robin started the profile sketch. They both worked in silence, the only noise coming from either of them being the hurried scratch of Robin’s pencil which contrasted with Hank’s lazier scrawl. Eventually Hank broke the silence by asking, “Did you expect a case on your first day?”

“I was promoted three weeks ago,” Robin replied, her grey eyes flicking up briefly to see Hank rub the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Sorry, I just thought…” Hank cleared his throat, “I haven’t seen you around, and you don’t have anything on your desk, so I just thought-”

“My desk?” Robin asked, looking at her computer and clean work area, “What’s wrong with my desk?”

“Well, most cops put up photos, knick-knacks, that kinda stuff,” He replied, motioning to his own cluttered desk. 

Robin held back her criticism about the mess his desk is, and instead replied, “I’m not the sentimental type, thanks though.”

Hank nodded before returning to his paperwork, thankful to have an exit from the awkward conversation. Robin did the same, putting some finishing touches on the sketch while looking over the descriptions she had gotten from Samantha once again. She only looked up once again when she heard the Lieutenant grumble about his hand hurting, and saw him trying to flex out the cramp. 

“Extend your index finger while writing and it won’t cramp as quickly,” Robin commented under her breath. She could hear Hank pause in his writing, and when he started once again he finished a page before muttering, “Thanks.” Robin smiled to herself, letting the brief emotion take over. She could make this work.


	2. Frustrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter unedited

By the second day Robin and Hank were partners, the new detective wasn’t sure how long she would last before snapping at the old drunkard. He had been late into work once again, and after leaving numerous voicemails on his phone, she finally decided to just head out without him. It wasn’t as if she had to do anything that really required his presence, she just wanted to have another chat with Samantha and her mother. 

Robin ended up spending the entire morning without her newly appointed partner; she finished her preliminary sketch, talked it over with Samantha, and managed to ID the suspect with the sketch and fingerprint analysis. The suspect’s name was Gene Moore. He had a past criminal record of breaking and entering and drug possession. Robin put out an APB for the suspect, and worked on the remaining paperwork for the case. Until they found Moore, there wasn’t much she could do. 

It was halfway through the remaining paperwork that Hank finally decided to show up. He didn’t acknowledge Robin beyond a simple nod before slumping down at his desk, coffee mug in hand and still stinking of alcohol. Robin sighed, collecting her temper before standing from her desk and taking her paperwork with her. Standing before the Lieutenant’s desk, she dropped everything she had on the case so far.

“What’s all this?” Hank grumbled, shuffling through some of the pages. 

“Our case,” Robin had to stop herself from hissing the words, “I finished the sketch, retrieved the fingerprint and blood analysis, and matched it to a Gene Moore. I already put an APB out for him and followed up with Captain Fowler.”

The Lieutenant looked up at the woman with a gaze that could either be interpreted as impressed or suspicious, “And how’d you manage to get all of this done so fast?”

“Easily,” Robin replied, raising a challenging brow and meeting his blue eyes defiantly, and couldn’t help but comment, “Which you might have known if you had been here to help.”

Robin didn’t give him a chance to reply, but could feel his assessing gaze on her back as she left his desk to go to the break room. She didn’t actually need a cup of coffee, which seemed to be the primary reason the other officers visited the small space, she just needed space away from Lieutenant Anderson. Plus, seeing as she had finished a majority of the paperwork, there wasn’t any demanding tasks at hand. 

Robin let her eyes roam to the small television situated on the break room wall, and decided to sit at one of the small tables while she listened to the news broadcaster. She didn’t pay any particular attention to the news, though. She just wanted an excuse to let her mind empty for a few minutes. Although that time was cut very short.

“Already getting sick of being around that old prick?” A voice cut into Robin’s thoughts. When she looked up she found the familiar face of one of the other detectives, Gavin Reed. Robin had yet to form any conclusions on the detective yet, as she hadn’t had a chance to speak to him, but from everything she heard from other officers, she wasn’t sure how well they would get along. He wasn’t looking at her directly, but instead stood at the counter and prepared himself a cup of coffee.

“I’ve only worked with the Lieutenant for two days,” Robin replied as diplomatically as she could muster, “I haven’t had a chance to make any conclusions about him yet.”

The other detective snorted and looked over his shoulder to give her a look that clearly displayed his disbelief, “Give it a week at most.”

“Surely he must be a good detective to have been promoted to Lieutenant,” Robin responded, hearing the bullshit in her own words. 

“Yeah, sure,” Detective Reed laughed, turning now to face her completely but remained leaning against the counter with his cup of coffee in hand, “Whatever makes you feel better, rookie.”

Robin squirmed slightly in her chair, feeling uncomfortable with bad-talking a commanding officer (even if everything that Reed was saying is somewhat true), and turned off the television, “I should get back to work.”

“Sure, sure,” he responded, taking another large sip of the scalding drink, “But if you ever want to partner up with a real detective you know where to find me.”

Robin decided not to comment, and decided to ignore the fact that the detective’s eyes were practically glued to her ass as she left the break room, but clenched her fist by her side in frustration. Returning to her desk, Robin sat down with a sigh and returned to her paperwork. The Henderson murder was the most exciting case she had had so far. Mostly she had been filling out reports for drunk and disorderlies and minor assaults. 

“I see you got to meet Reed,” Hank said from his own desk, turning in his chair and abandoning his half-finished paperwork, “What’d you think of the prick?”

“Funny, he used the same word to describe you,” Robin replied, flashing a quick sarcastic smile, “What are the odds?” 

Hank scoffed but a grin tugged at the corner of his lips, “Yeah I’m sure he did.”

Luckily for Robin she didn’t have to continue their uncomfortable conversation. One of the uniformed officers came up to tell them that there had been a reported sighting of Gene Moore by a convenience store. Luckily this was one incident in which Hank didn’t waste any time. They got the address from the officer and headed out to the convenience store in record time. Luckily for Robin, she managed to get the Lieutenant to take her car instead, using the argument that she was a better driver and her car was in better shape (which it was). Unluckily for Hank, Robin was a very good, but very fast driver. 

“Will you slow the fuck down!?” Hank shouted, clutching onto the handle above passenger door as if his life depended on it, “This isn’t a car chase!”

“I’m not going that fast, Lieutenant Anderson,” Robin sighed, not taking her eyes off the road as she zipped around all of the self driving vehicles, “I acknowledge the signs recommended speed, but I’m choosing to ignore it.”

“You’re going 60 over the speed limit!” Hank shouted, sinking lower into his seat as if for protection. 

“Look, we’re here,” Robin said as a distraction, pulling over to the side of the road and parking. 

“I’m never driving with you again,” Hank grumbled, looking rather pale.

“Don’t be a child. If we took your vehicle it would have taken far too long,” Robin replied, surveying the street through the car window.

“Do you talk back to all of your superior officers?” 

“Only if they make it easy,” Robin replied, unclipping her seat belt, “I’m going to go talk to the convenience store owner and see if they saw Moore in the area. You can stay here until your stomach settles, if you want.”

“I’m fine,” Hank replied defiantly, shooting Robin a half-hearted glare, “Let’s go, our shift ends soon and I want to get this bullshit over with.”

Robin ignored his second comment and got out of her car, locking the door behind her. They talked to the man in the convenience store and got confirmation that a man who matched Gene Moore’s description had been hanging around that area for a while. He never bought a lot, just the bare necessities, but the owner had seen him plenty enough to recognize his photo. 

“Maybe he has an apartment nearby,” Robin mentioned once they headed back outside, “We should hang around for a bit and see if he comes back.”

“Fine,” Hank relented, getting back into the passenger seat with some reluctance.

The two police officers sat in silence, the only sound to fill the small space was the taps of Robin’s impatient fingers against the steering wheel, and the pitter patter of rain hitting the windshield. Luckily it was only raining lightly and looked like it would clear up soon. Robin didn’t start the car in fear of possibly spooking Moore if he did happen to appear, so the inside of the car quickly cooled in the evening air. Hank sighed, lowering a bit in his seat and getting comfortable for the long wait. Robin could feel his eyes flicker over to look at her every few minutes, but she kept her gaze firmly set on scanning the street and surrounding buildings.

“Seems like we’re going to be here a while,” Hank finally muttered, his tone set to sound bored and uninterested, but Robin could hear the faint strain that offset his attempt, “So, how long did it take for you to get promoted to detective?”

“Two years,” Robin replied, not looking over at the other detective, “I worked at the twelfth precinct for most of that. I transferred to the Central station two months before my promotion.”

“Impressive,” Hank admitted, “Takes most cops three or four years, even if they’re good.”

“Thank you.”

“What’d you do before the academy?” Hank asked. Robin’s looked at the Lieutenant out of the corner of her eye, and found that he was no longer watching the road but evaluating her answers with a keen eye. Well he is a detective, Robin thought to herself, and dismissed his attentive observation as nothing but years of habit. 

“Nothing really,” Robin sighed, planning on not commenting further for her own privacy's sake, but something made her talk on, “I married young. Never went to college or worked. Played dutiful housewife for a few years before realizing I could do something more meaningful in life. Now I’m here.”

Robin wasn’t sure why she shared that with the Lieutenant. Perhaps it was because for the first time she had a partner that had more issues than she did. It’s easier to divulge personal information when the person who’s listening has it just as bad, Robin told herself. Who else would be a good choice but this mess?

“I’m guessing that marriage didn’t last long,” Hank observed, “Lots of young couples don’t.”

“Speaking from experience, Lieutenant?” Robin couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. 

Hank’s laugh was short, and sounded more like a scoff, “Of course.”

Their short moment of friendliness was cut short when Robin spotted a shadow by one of the apartment buildings on the street. The shadow in question was definitely a person, most likely male based on height and shoulder width, but they were wearing a large raincoat that made it difficult to tell. 

“You see him?” Robin asked quietly, nodding towards the person.

“Yeah, could be anyone though,” Hank replies, watching the figure with just as much intensity, “Let’s just wait for now. Don’t want to spook them.” 

The person was walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street towards their parked car. They walked quickly, but unevenly, with their hands stuffed deep into their pockets and their head down. Robin guessed that they might be intoxicated or inebriated in some way, as the person almost stumbled a few times. Movement in one of the allies caught Robins attention. Another figure emerged. They walked to the end of the alley, leaned against the brick wall, and watched the stumbling figure as they approached. Eventually they met, seeming to know each other, and talked amongst each other in silent whispers.

“I don't think they could make themselves look more conspicuous if they tried,” Robin murmured, keeping her eyes trained on the two.

“Criminals these days have no tact,” Hank huffed, “takes the fun out of it.”

Robin hummed in agreement, “Looks like it could be a drug trade. This isn’t exactly a reputable neighbourhood. I want to get a closer look, do you think there’s a way of approaching without causing alarm?” 

“Mmm, not sure,” Hank replied, his eyebrows scrunched together in thought, “There’s a bar up the road, if we stay on the far side of the crosswalk and walk towards the bar we might not catch their attention. Plus it’d give us a better view.”

“Agreed,” Robin replied, reaching into the backseat to grab her leather jacket and umbrella, “Let’s go.”

The two detectives got out of the car, closing their doors silently, and went up onto the sidewalk. Robin quickly threw on her jacket and opened her umbrella. It was still raining, although lightly, but she didn’t want to get soaked if they were going to be outside for a long time. Robin walked to Hank’s side and jumped slightly when he put his arm around her shoulder. Looking up at him in confusion, he shrugged and explained, “Looks less suspicious this way.” 

Robin nodded, readjusting her grip on the umbrella while keeping her eyes trained on the two men. Hank’s arm was heavy and distracting across her shoulders, but also warmed her side against the chill winds, so she tried to relax and fall in step with the taller man. 

“I still can’t get a good view of them,” Robin muttered under her breath, “Can you?”

“No, just be patient, we don’t actually know if they’re doing anything,” Hank sighed, “Man am I going to need a drink after this.”

Robin stopped herself from commenting on the Lieutenant’s drinking habits. Instead she watched the two men from under her umbrella, hoping not to draw their attention. They were still talking. Although it looked like they were having a rather heated conversation, she was still unable to pick up what they were saying. The man who had appeared from the alley was wearing a nice leather jacket with a hood pulled up to cover his face, but he was short and didn’t match the height of Moore. The other man was closer to fitting Moore’s description, but his face was hidden, and he wore an old, grey raincoat. 

Robin and Hank were nearly perpendicular with the two figures on the other side of the street by the time Robin saw them make a move. The man in the raincoat pulled his hand from his coat pocket, holding a few crumpled twenty dollar bills and handed them to the other man. The man in the leather jacket took the money, lazily counting it, before sticking his hand in his jacket pocket and pulling out a small baggy. Robin didn’t have to look twice to know it was red ice. Unfortunately when her eyes trained on the bag of red ice, the dealer’s eyes met hers. Dropping the bag, he took off down the alley. 

“Shit!” Robin yelled, dropping the umbrella and darting across the street. The other man was late noticing the two cops, and turned around in confusion before stumbling down the street. Robin took a second look at the man in the trench coat, and saw that he unfortunately wasn’t Moore. She contemplated going after him, but Hank shouted at her to follow the dealer and so she did. 

Robin’s sneakers slapped harshly against the wet pavement as she pursued the dealer. He was fast, dodging trash cans and boxes as he zipped down the alley. Luckily Robin was just as fast. It wasn’t long before she was immediately behind him. She saw the dealer turn to look over his shoulder, and before she could react properly he pulled something from his pocket that flashed in the dim light. Raising her hand in protection, she could faintly feel something rip through the palm of her hand and registered that he had a long pocket knife.

“Knife!” Robin warned, reeling back a step before he could slash again. She held her injured hand to her chest, and used the other to grab the gun from her holster. Robin couldn’t tell just how bad the cut was, but she could feel the warm blood leaking from her palm. 

Luckily she didn’t have to pursue the dealer any further because Hank had reached her by then, gun in hand, and started shouting orders at the man. The dealer thankfully complied, dropping his knife and holding his hands up. While Hank dealt with him, Robin quickly grabbed a handkerchief from her pocket and wrapped it around her injured hand, but didn’t take her eyes off of the other two. 

Once Hank had the dealer handcuffed on the ground, and had holstered his gun, he turned back to Robin and said, “Let me see your hand.”

“It’s nothing more than a small scratch, Lieutenant,” Robin replied, “I’ll clean it at the precinct, but we should get going.” 

“Just let me take a look, Averys,” Hank snapped impatiently, walking towards her.

“It’s fine,” Robin replied, but when Hank’s hand came into contact with her elbow she snapped and wrenched out of his loose grip, “Get the fuck off me, Anderson!”

Hank seemed thrown back by Robin’s outburst; he had seen her frustrated and annoyed, but he hadn’t seen her snap or curse like that yet. Holding his hands up in defence, he muttered, “Just trying to help. Nevermind then.”

Hank grumbled under his breath as he grabbed the dealer from his spot on the ground and dragged him down the alley back towards Robin’s car. Robin fell back, letting the Lieutenant get ahead. Looking down her hand, she unwrapped it to take a look at the damage. 

It was a good thing Hank hadn’t managed to see the wound; it would have been difficult to explain the blue blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I would really appreciate any feedback about how the story is going so far; did you suspect Robin was an android? Am I as shitty about writing cops as I feared? What do you think/want to happen next? I'm up to any suggestions! I'm a little out of my element with this fic because of my limited knowledge on police, and my extremely limited knowledge on technology (seriously, I can barely use my phone, it's pathetic).


	3. "Marian"

“Marian!” the shouts filled the house, as they usually did, at 5:02:14. He almost had this down to the minute. “Marian, where the fuck did you go!?”

“I am in the kitchen, my love,” the RKA09 model replied, cleaning the soap water from her hands and swiping the few wrinkles from her dress. She stood at the ready, her hands folded pleasantly in front of her, and the programed warm smile tugging pleasantly at her lips. She could faintly hear the rhythmic stomps of her owners footsteps as he made his way across the large house. Based on his usual walking patterns, he did not have a ‘good’ day, but she still had to ask.

The man was tall, much taller than she was, and had a semi-permanent scowl fixed onto his aging face. He wore a suit, as he always did when he had to work, but upon doing a full body scan, she could see the whiskey stain on his shirt and smell the alcohol fumes on his breath. He didn’t seem to be terribly inebriated; his walking gait was regular and his eyes were focused.

“How was your day, Harvey? Good, I hope,” ‘Marian’, as the android was called, smiled up at her owner, “What would you like for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t want shit,” the man waved his hands dismissively, his nose scrunching in disgust. He wandered around the kitchen, rifling through all of the drawers and cabinets as he fought to remember where Marian stored the glasses and liquor. She wasn’t going to tell him, and continued to watch him pace around the kitchen. He muttered to himself as he went, and Marian wasn’t sure if he meant for her to hear, “I’ve been busting my ass all fucking day, what have you been doing? Jack shit, is what.”

Marian thought of correcting him; her memories of doing chores throughout the day saved in her database, but she already knew what reaction that would cause and decided it better to let him brood. He eventually found everything he needed to create his favourite drink. Marian stepped forward to help him, but he smacked her hands away roughly and grunted about her pissing off. 

[Software Instability Detected] 

The RKA09 stepped back, folding her hands politely once again, and watched him struggle with his drink. He finally seemed to finish, only sloshing a small amount onto the counter. Objectives appeared in the corner of the RKA09’s vision. The most important of all was [Keep Harvey Happy].

“What would you like to do tonight, love?” ‘Marian’ asked, shining a warm smile on the man despite not feeling any form of happiness. She placed one of her hands gently on his arm, “If you want to finish your drink, I could play piano for you? Or we could go for a walk. The weather is absolutely perfect tonight-”

“Just shut the fuck up, Marian!” The man snapped, pushing her away roughly. Marian fell back against the counter, jostled by her owner’s sudden movement.

[Software Instability Detected]

“Just go fucking clean something, I don’t care. Come find me in an hour,” Harvey grumbled, leaving Marian in the kitchen alone.

The android took a moment to reassess her objectives;

[Finish chores]  
Kitchen dishes  
Laundry  
Garden

[Harvey]  
Find in 00:58:43  
Dismember 

[Software Instability Detected]

[Reloading Objectives]

[Finish Chores]  
Kitchen dishes  
Laundry  
Garden

[Harvey]  
Find in 00:58:27

Without wasting anymore time, Marian returned to standing before the kitchen sink. The water she had poured earlier was now too cold to use, so she unplugged it and watched it slowly drain. The movement of the water as it flowed down the drain was somehow soothing, and Marian pushed the earlier incident, and every incident with Harvey before that, out of her mind. Looking through the kitchen window, she gazed over the rows of birch trees as they swayed in the evening wind. Marian had put up new birdfeeders just a few days before, and a group of robins were perched on the feeders and among the tree branches. 

[Software Instability Detected]

Smiling, she returned to her tasks, for once feeling that her happiness might not be programed. 

~~~

Robin made a beeline for the washroom upon returning to the precinct. She let Hank handle processing the dealer they had caught, and skillfully avoided his concerned glances. He probably knew the cut was worse than what she said, but he wasn't going to push any further. He didn’t want to get snapped at again. The washroom was thankfully empty, but as a precaution Robin locked the door behind her and double checked every stall. Thankfully, the precinct had plenty of first aid kits for her to rummage through. Although she technically wouldn't need it, she still needed the bandage to keep up her human appearance. 

Taking off the handkerchief that hid her wound, she quickly washed away any stray blue blood and was happy to find that the bleeding was not as bad as originally thought. Taking a lighter from her purse, she lit it and held it under her open palm. The plastic and synthetic skin melted together and successfully halted any more loss of thirium. Although this wasn't a permanent fix, it would have to do until she could get it properly looked at. Speaking of which-

Dialing the number saved in her database, she heard the faint ringing before a familiar voice answered, “Took you long enough to call, my Robin. You’d think after everything-”

“Shut up for a moment,” Robin replied, wrapping her hand to hide the scorch mark across her palm, “I have a problem, I need your assistance. When can I drive to your house?”

She heard the person on the other line sigh. She would almost think him genuinely upset, if not for the fact that his sigh was over dramatic and drawn out. And if she wasn’t 75% sure that he was incapable of feeling anything. “Come over once you’re done running around in your monkey suit.”

“I don’t have to wear the police uniform anymore,” Robin found herself correcting, packing up the first aid kit, “I was promoted to detective three weeks ago.”

“Seems we have some catching up to do,” He replied, “I’ll be waiting.”

Robin cut off the connection after he had hung up. Looking up into the bathroom mirror, she took a moment to take herself in. She’s looked the same for almost 4 years now, but for some reason it still felt wrong. When she managed to escape her owner she had to change as much as she could about herself; her hair, skin, name, even her eyes. Her face remained more or less the same, but no human would be able to recognize her without detailed photo comparisons. Even though she made all of the changes herself, she still missed her old appearance, oddly enough. Fighting away the memories of her old life and locking them into the deepest part of her database, she finished cleaning up any trace that she had been in the bathroom before heading back out into the precinct. 

Luckily no one paid her any mind as she put away the first aid kit and returned to her desk. Well except for Hank, who was sitting at his own desk with a stiff glare set on his face. Robin remained silent as she sat down, pulling out the required forms to write out a police report. 

“How’s your hand?” Hank asked gruffly, still glaring.

“I told you, it’s fine,” Robin replied, not looking up from her report as she filled it out. There was a moment of tense silence between them, and Robin couldn’t feel it dissipating any time soon. Guilt began to swirl like an ugly weight behind her thirium pump. Sighing and dropping her pen, she turned to face Hank and said, “I… regret snapping at you, Lieutenant. I don’t like being grabbed, and I lost my temper. It won’t happen again. I would like for us to be on the same page, especially because we’re going to be partners for the foreseeable future.”

“Fine,” Hank grunted, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “Sorry for, uh, grabbing.”

“It’s fine. I appreciate your concern, even if I reacted poorly.”

Hank sighed, leaning back in his chair and waving his hand as if clearing away the awkward air, “How about we just forget all of that bullshit. Look, our shift is done in ten minutes, the guy we caught is in processing, and there’s an APB out for Moore. Do you wanna just go get a drink or something?”

Robin was taken back by the Lieutenant’s sudden question. Although she was tempted, more so to make sure Hank got home safely and sober enough to arrive at work on time, her burned hand was making the occasional warning sign appear in the corner of her vision, and it was getting annoying to repeatedly dismiss them. Plus she was already expected. 

“That sounds great, really, but I already made plans with someone,” Robin replied, smiling weakly. It was unfortunate for both her and Hank that detective Reed chose that moment to walk past their desk.

“My God, Anderson, could you choose anyone younger to hit on?” Reed scoffed with a tone that was only half joking, “Plus on a girl who’s seeing someone else? Didn’t know you were a creepy old man.”

“Shut up, ya fucking prick. I wasn’t asking her out,” Hank grumbled back, but his insult was half-hearted. Robin, however, was pissed. Standing from her chair, she stood before the other detective with a fierce glare set on her face.

“Detective Reed, what I do in my free time is none of your concern,” Robin said with a stern, but reserved tone, “Also, I’m forty, you prick.”

Gavin Reed seemed taken back by Robin’s sudden mood change, but as his eyes roamed down her figure, all he could ask was, “How are you forty?”

“How are you still here?” Robin snapped, losing her temper quickly. Gavin rolled his eyes, raising his hands in defence, and sauntered back to his own desk. Robin sighed, sitting back down at her own desk.

Well, the awkward air that Hank had desperately tried to clear up was back.

“Sorry,” Robin said as she began cleaning her desk and packing things away for the day, “I would say yes, but I already made plans. He’s an… old friend, and I haven’t seen him in a few months. Plus he’s the closest person I know to being a doctor, so he said he’d take a look at my hand. Can I get a rain check?”

“Yeah, sure, don’t worry about it,” Hank replied gruffly. He didn’t really seem to believe her, but she didn’t want to push the topic further. Having finished cleaning her space, she shut down her terminal and grabbed her jacket and purse. She didn’t really need a jacket, but it looked odd to walk around in cold weather without one. Plus it helped keep rain off her.

“Have a nice night, Lieutenant,” Robin said as she departed, only hearing a faint grunt in reply, and headed towards the station’s parking lot. Getting into her car, she calculated the fasted route and estimated her arrival in 00:43:22, although that calculation was somewhat dependant on road conditions. She was excited to get her hand fixed, but she was not excited for her long overdue visit, and the knowledge that her house was only six minutes away made her want to postpone. She would much rather spend the night alone than in his company. 

The drive took longer than expected, and Robin arrived at the immodest home in an hour instead of 43 minutes. She wasn’t going to think twice about whether that was due to traffic or her purposely driving slowly. Parking her car, she sighed heavily and took her time getting out of the passenger seat. It was ironic that the man who created her to be unfeeling was the same man who made her feel the most dread, frustration, and obligation than any other human she had yet to meet. Ringing the bell, Robin found herself holding her breath despite not needing to breath in the first place as she waited. 

Instead of one of the blonde androids that usually greeted guests, Elijah Kamski opened the door for Robin. He looked the same as he had the last time Robin had visited; immaculately dressed, his long hair tied back neatly, and a knowing smile curling at his lips. God, she hated that expression. 

“My Robin,” Elijah greeted, “It’s good to see you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think so far!


	4. Elijah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me way longer to update this than it should have... my bad.
> 
>  
> 
> *Chapter unedited

“Come along, let’s take a look at that hand,” Elijah said, opening the door wider for Robin to pass through. His home still looked the same since Robin had last visited, and every time before that; immaculately clean, harsh monochromatic decoration, and a kind of stale air that took away any warmth. It suited the billionaire quite well. Elijah was dressed in a crisp, dark blue dress shirt and dress pants. The only factor that took away from his professional demeanor was the fact that he was barefoot. Although that didn’t surprise Robin, he usually walked around his home barefoot. 

“How exactly did you manage to injure yourself?” Elijah asked, only the slightest strain maring his tone to show how irritated he actually was. He placed his hand on Robin’s lower back as he led her towards his workshop. Robin allowed it since he was doing her a big favor, but they both knew that was the only reason why. 

“I was chasing a perp down an alley, he had a knife and tried to stab me,” Robin gave the quick version, adding the most important part of the account, “No one saw the thirium.”

“Well that is a small mercy,” Elijah muttered, entering his workshop which quickly flooded with light upon their entrance. He sat at his work table and motioned toward the spare stool next to it. The stool was just a little too close to his, close enough that he towered over her when he sat up straight. Luckily he would have to bend down a bit to get a good look at her hand. Robin sat down and made quick work of unwrapping her bandaged hand. She held her hand out, palm up, and looked away as Elijah took hold of the damaged part. She briefly turned off any of the sensors connected to her hand, both so that she wouldn’t have to feel Elijah working, and so that she wouldn’t be bothered by any more damage notifications.

“Did you have to burn the synthetic skin?” Elijah sighed, grabbing a pair of glasses from the table drawer, “It’s going to be a pain to repair without just replacing the hole hand.”

“No replacing,” Robin reminded, “Do what you can.”

“Fine,” Elijah grumbled, and got to work, “Tell me about your promotion.” 

“Why?” Robin asked. Although she already knew his reason, she still asked in the hopes that he might drop it, like a petulant child.

“Because you are my favourite creation, and I therefore require updates on your wellbeing,” Elijah replied, but his voice was low and lacked full attention while he worked on her hand, “And because I know it annoys you.” 

Robin had to push down the sudden rise of irritation, “Fine. I transferred to a different police precinct, have been promoted to detective, and I am working with a Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Is that enough?”

“No, which precinct?”

“None of your business. Next question.” Their conversations often went this way. He would ask a series of questions; some simple, some complex, and some emotionally jarring, and she would either answer or tell him to bugger off. The last time she had told him which precinct she was working in, he decided to show up unannounced with “coffee” for her, (which was actually just thirium in a coffee mug), and caused quite a scene at her work. Later that month she switched precincts. 

“What is Hank Anderson like?”

“He’s chronically late, a bit of a slob, seems to be an alcoholic, doesn’t respect commanding officers, and has limited knowledge on professionalism,” Robin listed off, her tone growing more heated as she went. She caught herself before she could get any more angry, and ended with a hesitant tone, “But he seems nice.”

Robin let her eyes briefly flicker over to Elijah and found him staring intently at her. With the slightest curl to his lips, he said with a curious tone, “Well, that’s quite the reaction. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to cause this emotional of a response from you. And here I was thinking you’d turned back on your deviancy.” 

“Shut up, Kamski,” Robin muttered, turning her face away once again. She hated seeing him fix her. 

“Calling me Kamski already, my Robin?” Elijah tisked, “You must be in a sour mood; you’re letting me push all of your buttons today.”

Robin remained silent. 

“What else has happened?” Elijah asked, not wasting any of his time.

“Nothing,” Robin replied immediately. 

“Really?” Elijah raised a disbelieving brow, “Then my sources must be wildly incorrect.”

Robin frowned, but refused to look at the man, “I can deal with my problems by myself, Elijah.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Elijah relented. He gently squeezed Robin’s wrist as he spoke, and she wasn’t sure if it was meant as a comfort or as a promise, “But if you’re receiving threats, then you need to tell me. That was the deal, my Robin. If you want to play at human than you need to keep me updated. Besides, I could deal with him a lot faster.”

“Your way would be illegal. I’ll deal with it myself.”

“Your very existence goes against the laws you so dearly want to uphold,” Elijah scoffed. When the android didn’t reply, he continued on, “If the threats continue or get out of hand I will be stepping in, my Robin. Whether you want me to or not.”

“Please just let me deal with it myself,” Robin finally looked at her creator, keeping her eyes fixed on his and not on the hand he worked on. His eyes rarely changed; they were always a cold, meticulous blue. He seemed to stare through everybody, as if he already knew their deepest darkest secrets. Robin was no exception to this. He stared through her with the same detached, cold gaze, but underneath all of that she could see his obsession shining through.

Elijah sat up slightly, his expression barely changing as he came to his decision. “Fine,” he finally replied, and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, “for now.” He wordlessly returned to his task, and didn’t ask any more questions.

Robin was glad that their conversation came to an end. The android sat as still as she could and tried not to think as she waited for him to finish, but the many memories that had accumulated around Elijah kept popping up unexpectedly. Her first memory happened to take place in the same workshop; being awoken by her creator and given as a gift to the man who called her “Marian” soon after. The next time she stepped into this house, it was to question her creator. Having truly ‘awoken’, she hadn’t understood her place in the world, and who was better to ask then the man who made her? As the first android Elijah had ever witnessed with empathy and all the other human emotions, she was quite the anomaly. And so he urged her to stay with him for a number of months, but not without the price of answering any and all questions the scientist had. Elijah was the definition of controlling, and it had taken Robin a long time to learn how to stand up for herself. Even now, she sometimes found it difficult. If it had been up to Elijah, she never would have left.

“There, I’m finished,” Elijah finally sighed, “Try not to injure yourself further. We can meet under better circumstances.”

“I highly doubt that,” Robin muttered, returning power and feeling to her hand. She took a quick moment to inspect it; like all of Elijah’s work, her hand was in perfect shape and showed no sign damage. “Thank you,” Robin said sincerely, letting a rare smile grace her face for the man.

“Any time, my Robin,” Elijah replied, a smile curling at his lips, “Now, you know my price.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Robin waved, already heading out of the workshop and towards the inner working of his house, “I still don’t understand why I have to do this as payment.”

“Because I enjoy it, and you have to spend time with me,” Elijah replied dryly, “Get a move on, I’ve anticipated this all afternoon.”

“Whatever,” Robin sighed, entering Elijah’s living room and walking towards the large grand piano that took up a corner of the room.

“What are you feeling today?” Robin asked as she took a seat at the piano and lifted its fall board up to reveal the keys underneath.

“Surprise me,” Elijah answered the same way he always did, but Robin already knew he would ask for a different piece or composer within five minutes. He repositioned one of his black lounge chairs so he sat near Robin’s elbow, and leaned back to relax into the cushions.

Taking a quick moment to scan through the songs she already knew, it didn’t take long for her to pick out a relatively easy piece. Robin learned how to play all piano songs the human way - well as human as she could. She never downloaded the songs she wanted to learn, as most androids created for entertainment did, but instead printed out the sheet music and spent hours reading it over and practicing. Of course she had an advantage over humans in that she wouldn’t forget what she had learned, and could store much more information than a human could, but she still put the effort into learning. Robin still didn’t understand why Elijah’s “price” for his assistance was playing the piano for him. If he really wanted to listen to piano music, he could simply ask one of his Chloes to play. 

Sighing, she brought her hands down on the keys and began to play Chopin’s Prelude in B minor. It was an easy enough piece, and one that Elijah had enjoyed in the past, but Robin only realized after beginning that this song wasn’t suiting her today. But she ignored the nagging feeling and continued to play anyways, wanting to get this over with so she could return home. 

“No, no, no,” Elijah groaned, making Robin pause her song, “Play something you actually want to play.”

“Well I don’t want to play anything, so I guess we’re both going to be bored,” Robin replied, turning to look him with half a glare.

“You know my price, bird. Come on, play something,” He lounged back in his chair, motioning with his hand for her to continue, “Play something and then we can move on to dinner. Chloe’s making that dish tonight- the one with the capers and tuna.”

“‘The one with capers and tuna’? Memory failing you, Elijah?” Robin asked, settling her hands against the piano once again. She began to play one of Rachmaninov’s pieces, but she only gave it half a mind as she focused on Elijah a little more carefully. He didn’t show any of the usual physical tells, but then again he had always been excellent at hiding his problems. What few of them he had.

“Did you slip again?” Robin asked carefully, her eyes trained on her hands as they flew across the keys, but her attention focused solely on the man at her side. If it showed in her playing, Elijah didn’t comment. 

“Of course not,” Elijah responded, with an indignant scoff, “Is that any way to talk to an old friend? I just did you a favor, Robin, you could try to show some appreciation.” 

“Don’t lie to me, Kamski, you’re worse at it than you think,” Robin responded, ending her song prematurely, “I ask because I’m your friend, as loath as I am to admit it, and I worry about your health.”

“I haven’t,” he replied, with a slight scowl. Robin tried to ignore his next grumbled comment, “Although maybe I should. Only way to make you come back here.” 

Robin sent him a reprimanding glare, but he rolled his eyes and motioned for her to keep playing. Robin let the conversation drop and did as he asked. He did fix her hand after all. She continued to play for another twenty minutes, shifting through all of Elijah’s favourite songs and a few of her own. Eventually one of the Chloes came to tell them dinner was finished. Of course, Robin couldn’t actually eat, so she simply sat across from Elijah while he ate his dinner and sipped on overpriced wine. He talked the whole time, and made Robin talk about her experiences as a detective. She gave him as limited information as she could, but he still managed to get a fair amount from her. By the end of Elijah’s meal, he had come to one conclusion. 

“You should try and befriend some of your colleagues,” Elijah said very suddenly, watching the wine in his hand as the dark red liquid swirled around the glass.

“What?” Robin had to stop herself from sputtering in surprise, “Coming from the man who showed up at my last precinct because he thought I was getting too friendly with my partner?”

“Admittedly, I was a little… solicitous,” Elijah shrugged, as if his actions meant nothing.

“I had to change precincts! Twice!” Robin nearly shouted, more confused than angry, “It was all over social media for a month! I had to change my hair, and give myself freckles, and stop wearing glasses just in the hopes that my new precinct wouldn’t recognize me!” 

Elijah smirked at her over his glass, his eyes gleaming predatorily, and she knew it was because she had actually shown human emotion in front of him. Growling in frustration and closing her eyes tightly while she reined in her temper, Robin muttered, “Stop playing with me, Kamski, or I will leave.”

“I’m just teasing, dear. But I do mean what I said. I think it would be beneficial for you,” Elijah shrugged once more and leaned back in his chair, but his eyes never left her, “Before you were just some beat cop. You stuck to safe neighbourhoods and were rarely placed in dangerous situations. Now, however, it’s only been three weeks and I’m already repairing a knife wound. This may not have been the first incident, but it most certainly won’t be the last. Having allies who could be persuaded to keep your secret if it ever comes out would be highly beneficial.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Robin replied after a long moment of silence. Her brows were still knit in confusion. She couldn’t see Elijah having any ulterior motive in her befriending a few of her colleagues, but with him she could never tell. 

“In fact.” Elijah stood from his chair. “If you promise to go off on whatever bonding experience these police officers prefer, than we can end tonight early.”

This shocked Robin even more. Elijah always made due with whatever time Robin game him; whether that was a new psychological test, simple banter, or philosophical conversations - he never wasted any of his time with her. Most of all, he never let her leave early. 

“You want me to leave? Now?” Robin asked, replaying what he said just to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood. 

“Yes,” Elijah answered simply, “If you promise to go out and become all buddy-buddy with some of your colleagues.”

As much as Robin wanted to question Elijah further, she also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. Standing from her chair, she straightened her jacket, said a hesitant farewell to her creator, and left. The last thing she heard from Elijah as she left his mansion was a murmured, “Don’t forget your promise, my Robin.”

Robin was still in a state of shock even once she reached her car. Mutely climbing in, she sat silently for a moment, her processors working overtime replaying everything that had happened that evening. Upon reaching the conclusion of the visit, Robin dialed the phone number from her memory and waited while it rang. It was on the fourth ring that the call was answered.

“Hello, Lieutenant Anderson. Is your offer for a drink still open?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I tried my best to keep Elijah in character, but I'm not too sure how I did, obviously I'm going to be making some changes to his character (but to be fair there isn't a huge amount of info on him) but I would still love to hear your feedback. I found Elijah to be a really interesting character in the game, so he's going to be a reoccurring character throughout the story.
> 
> If you have any comments, thoughts, or general hopes for the future I would love to hear them all! I have a few things set in stone for this story, but beyond that I am open to suggestions!   
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I hope you enjoyed! Any reviews would be extremely appreciated, and I'll answer any messages left for me!


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